


Waiting Room

by voidknight



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Conversations, Crossover, Gen, Paranoia, Screenplay/Script Format, Season/Series 02, Therapy, au where jon maybe starts dealing with his problems, but what the hell he needs some sorta help, of course therapy's not going to help him with the whole eye thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidknight/pseuds/voidknight
Summary: In which Jonathan Sims actually goes to therapy in the middle of season 2, like he really should have, and meets a strange teenager while waiting for his first appointment.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> got into TMA just as SU ended (currently on season 3!), so i thought i might write a quick fic about the two protagonists who've been through wild fantasy/horror shit and really need therapy...

_Two people sit in what looks like a waiting room. No one else is there. It’s small and plain, and a couple plants are strewn about, giving the place a calm, inviting feel._

_STEVEN is a hunched 16-year-old in a pink jacket. His hands grip his knees as he stares at the floor. The rose-colored tint of his cheeks seems to glow slightly. Though he still looks uneasy, it feels like this is not his first visit._

_JON is a thirty-something man in a well-worn coat. His skin is pockmarked with round, white scars. He stares straight ahead, fingering something in his pocket. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days._

_After a few seconds, Jon stands, walks over to the desk, and leans forward, surveying the space behind it. He sees no one. He pauses, then raps on the door that_ should _lead to the rest of the building. When he tries to open it, it appears to be locked._

JON: Apparently we’ve been abandoned.

STEVEN: What? Where is everyone?

JON: I have no idea.

STEVEN: My appointment said 3:30…

JON: And so did mine.

STEVEN: Wait, isn’t there only one therapist?

JON: There must have been a scheduling error. I assume you’re also here for Dr. Troy?

STEVEN, _laughing weakly:_ I mean, she’s the one who’s known for being able to deal with more, um… “supernatural” stuff, as she calls it.

JON: Supernatural stuff? You had an experience with the paranormal, then?

_He reaches into his pocket, drawing out a tape recorder. Steven looks at him quizzically._

JON: What sort, if you don’t mind me asking?

STEVEN: Wait, what are you doing?

JON: Oh. Right. Do you mind if I record this?

STEVEN: What? Why?

JON: I, well…

_He puts the recorder away, looking a little embarrassed._

JON: I suppose that’s why I’m here in the first place.

STEVEN: At therapy?

JON: ...Yes.

_Pause._

JON: I’m curious about your experience, is all.

STEVEN: I just… had a bit of a breakdown. But—! I’m fine now. It’s nothing you need to worry about, really. I have… lots of support. Everyone’s got my back. I just feel… feel… I don’t know. Why am I talking to you? You’re not Dr. Troy.

JON: I—see. Um. You mentioned, well, the supernatural—

STEVEN: It’s a long story.

JON, _laughing:_ Don’t worry. Listening to long stories is practically my entire job.

STEVEN: Well, there’s this race of aliens called the Gems, and they, um…

_Jon watches him. Steven sits there for a couple seconds, then sighs._

STEVEN: ...And some of them raised me, but things on the Gem Homeworld were just really bad and unstable, so I kept getting put in danger, and also I almost died, like, so many times? And it turned out that my mom was one of the evil gem leaders, but she wasn’t so evil, but she still conquered planets and had to lie to everyone to stay on Earth, and then I fixed all the politics on Homeworld? But all of that was so stressful, I mean, it was like 2 years straight of stress, and that apparently made me bad at responding to new stress, so I started glowing pink and swelling up and then I turned into a monster—

JON: That… sounds horrible. My condolences.

STEVEN: Thanks. Wow! That was a lot more than I meant to say, haha.

JON: Interesting.

STEVEN: What?

JON: It’s just that people are usually a bit more—nevermind.

_He clears his throat._

JON: I work for an organization called the Magnus Institute that catalogues experiences of, well, contact with the esoteric, or, I suppose, the supernatural. Would you be interested in making a statement sometime? I have a ca—

STEVEN: I mean, it’s not really supernatural. It’s always just been normal for me.

JON: Exactly why I think your perspective would be a valuable one.

STEVEN: Maybe sometime.

JON: Many have said it’s therapeutic to relate their experiences to someone who believes them.

STEVEN: Look… I can tell you really wanna help. But I think we’re talking about two different things! I’m half Gem. My entire life has been just one weird alien thing after another. And everyone around me knows that! Hell, a bunch of the people I’m closest to are Gems themselves! It’s not like nobody _believes_ me. It’s just that… that things are hard despite that.

JON: I’m surprised I’ve never heard of these Gems. Perhaps they’re more well-known in America.

STEVEN: Only really to my community.

JON: That’s very interesting. Hmm. If you did make a statement, there would be plenty of corroborating evidence.

STEVEN: Evidence of… my life?

JON, _quickly:_ Hypothetically. Only hypothetically. Never mind.

STEVEN: Isn’t the first rule of therapy that you take in everyone’s feelings without judgement?

JON: Oh, I am _not_ a therapist.

STEVEN: Yeah, but we’re both supposed to be in therapy right now, aren’t we?

JON: Yes. Yes, well—ohh. _Ohhh._ You may be onto something.

STEVEN: What—?

JON: We were both scheduled to meet Dr. Troy at the exact same time. However, Dr. Troy is obviously not here. Could this be some sort of elaborate ploy? To trick us into a kind of self-imposed group therapy?

STEVEN: No! I just meant that we’re in, like… I don’t know, a safe space.

JON: Very well. I will… try to curb some of my archivist habits.

STEVEN: If you don’t mind sharing, why are _you_ here?

JON, _laughing dryly:_ Oh, I’m sure there are _quite_ a few reasons why my coworkers might have referred me. But most recently—most tangibly—um. I was… attacked by worms.

_He indicates his scars. Steven grimaces._

STEVEN: Oh man. Gross! Supernatural worms?

JON: Something like that.

_There is a long silence. Jon takes his seat again, about three chairs away from Steven. After a minute, Steven takes out his phone and starts texting someone, probably Greg or Connie. Jon turns away from Steven and begins to mutter into his tape recorder._

JON: Therapy session one is… not going well. Rather, it’s not going at all. It’s just like Martin to mix up the scheduling like this. I’m here with an American teenager who claims to be half-alien. Everything he has told me seems utterly removed from the forces at play in the statements. Clearly something is going on, as there doesn’t appear to be anyone else in the building. It’s possible I’ve stumbled into something much larger than simply an empty office and an overly imaginative companion. Given the strangeness of the scenario, I can’t help but question Martin’s motives in setting me up for this appointment. It cuts into my work hours at the Archives quite significantly. I might even say that someone wanted me out of the Archives for this period of time. Fortunately, all of my supplementary recordings are contained on the recorder I currently have with me, but there are other… incriminating artifacts still at the Archives. If someone were to search my office thoroughly, they might find Gertrude’s computer. Claiming to be “looking out for my mental health” is the perfect excuse to—

_He glances the other way, and jumps when he sees Steven staring at him. He drops his recorder into his lap, but doesn’t turn it off._

JON: …Don’t mind me.

STEVEN: Hey. I’ve been there. I know how it feels to think none of your friends understand, or think that no one’s on your side.

JON, _laughing awkwardly:_ N-no, that’s not how it is at all. This isn’t about my feelings. This is about a murder. That any of my coworkers could have been connected to. I have to be very careful. I can’t trust anyone. Not even you. _Especially_ not you—

_He gets up as if to leave, clutching his tape recorder too tightly._

STEVEN: Wait!

_Before Jon can do anything, Steven jumps in front of the door, conjuring a barrier of pink energy in front of him. Jon leaps back, then trips and falls backwards onto the floor. Steven’s determined expression morphs into one of concern, and the barrier dissipates. He runs over and helps Jon shakily to his feet. Jon is thoroughly rattled._

JON: How the hell did you do that??

STEVEN: I’m… I’m sorry. But I just… I know that trusting your friends is the most important thing you can do. You can’t fix everything yourself. I promise that your friends have your back.

JON: They’re… not my friends. They’re my coworkers.

STEVEN: But if they’re sending you to therapy then they must care about you, right?!

JON: Or they want me out of the—

STEVEN: No! Even if they messed up the scheduling. That happens all the time! The first time I came here, I was thirty minutes late because my dad got confused!

JON: I can’t just ignore the possibility. I can’t rule _anything_ out. Elias is _very_ close to firing me and if he finds out about—

STEVEN: Do you really think your coworkers would _murder_ someone??

JON: I don’t know!!

STEVEN: I know that there can be much more to people than you see on the surface. They can lie and kill and be completely different than everything anyone’s ever told you about them—but you have to see their humanity too! You have to give them a chance.

JON: I need evidence. I can’t just go off their _feelings;_ that doesn’t tell me anything.

STEVEN: But it does!

JON: Well, I’m sorry if I’m not quite as empathic as you are.

STEVEN: But couldn’t you be empathetic? It sounds like all of you have gone through a really stressful event. Someone you know was murdered! And you got attacked by magic worms! It—

JON: The worms were not _magic._

STEVEN: —It’s no wonder you feel like this! But the solution isn’t to start blaming everyone else. You have to band together as a community and work to get through this!

JON: What a nice sentiment. One that I somehow doubt will get me closer to understanding Gertrude’s murder.

STEVEN: Why is _that_ the most important thing?

JON: I—what?

STEVEN: Why don’t you focus on healing first, so you can go into your investigation with a clearer mind?

JON: Because I _need_ to know. Now.

STEVEN: Why??

JON: I don’t _know._ I just do.

STEVEN: You… you need to take a break. Too much stuff happening, one thing after another, it just gets to you.

JON: There’s something going on here. I don’t know what. But I need to know, because my own life might be in danger. Jane Prentiss warned me of my _fate_ —and she’s dead—but she can’t be; I won’t _accept_ that. And the tunnels—there’s something _down_ there. What am I doing? I don’t have time for therapy! I need to get back—

_He makes to leave again, but as he takes a step towards the front door, the door behind him opens—the one that leads out of the waiting room into the rest of the building. A smiling woman, presumably Dr. Troy, enters. She looks exactly like a generic therapist._

DR. TROY: Steven, are you trying to fix other people’s problems again?

STEVEN: Where _were_ you?

DR. TROY: I’m sorry; there was an incident. Don’t worry; it’s all cleared up now. Are… both of you waiting for me?

_Steven and Jon share a glance. Their appearances are so radically different that the scene is kind of funny._

JON: I’ll be off, then.

STEVEN: No! You can’t run away from your problems!

JON: I’m not _running away_ from them. I’m trying to solve them in a more productive manner.

_Dr. Troy checks her clipboard, then turns to Jon._

DR. TROY: You’re Jonathan Sims, aren’t you?

JON: …Yes.

DR. TROY: Steven, I believe your appointment is actually tomorrow.

STEVEN: Oh! Ha, I guess my dad did it again.

DR. TROY: Jon—may I call you Jon?—I’m happy to reschedule if the wait made timing inconvenient.

JON, _glancing at Steven:_ No… no, I have the time.

DR. TROY: Excellent! Follow me.

_Steven gives Jon a grin and a thumbs up. Jon returns a tiny smile, then follows Dr. Troy back through the door._


End file.
